A Dragon's Tale
by GlowingRed
Summary: Hermione's split with Ron has made Molly's graduation gift to a vacation in Egypt strained and unnatural. But Charlie Weasley happens to be staying in the room above Hermione; can she handle another strong-willed Weasley into her life? WARNING: Lemons.


Hermione Granger was, for what felt like the thousandth time that afternoon alone, assuring her best male friend that she would not whither away under his absence and that she was perfectly capable of standing on her own two feet. She had given this speech so many times, she was certain she would begin reciting it in her dreams. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders more properly.

"Truly, Harry, I'm just fine. I've got my book and plans shortly. I'm sure Ginny would love to see you."

"Hermione…" Harry Potter ran a hand through his already disheveled black hair. "Ginny will be okay. She understands. In fact, we all think he's being a rather large prat about this."

Hermione finally put down her book and stared hard at her best friend; she had hoped with the end of the war he would stop playing the hero and take some time for himself, but it seemed some habits died hard. "Harry James Potter, go spend some time with your girlfriend. We're all quite used to Ron's actions by now, and I'm perfectly capable of entertaining myself. If it would make you feel better, I'll even promise to take in some city sites tonight, but please – get out of here."

Harry stared at her for several moments more before breaking into a large grin. "Thanks, 'Mione. Ginny's been asking to swim all afternoon, and I've noticed everyone else has run off but you, and I didn't think you should be left alone—"

"Seriously, Harry," Hermione restated firmly, albeit her amused smile left her tone somewhat lacking. "I am more than happy to relax on my own. Stop being my mother and go enjoy your vacation with the girl who asked you to be here."

Harry leaned over to pat Hermione's knee in a friendly, boyish manner; Hermione stifled a laugh until he turned away. As soon as he rounded the corner, however, she cast her eyes skyward and sighed, pulling her legs into her chest and repositioning her book. She couldn't help but glare at the text blurring before her eyes. Here she was in one of the most beautiful countries on Earth, and she was reading on the balcony of her hotel. How adventurous, she thought. But she was feeling sour; try though she might, she still felt bitter toward her now ex-boyfriend, Ron Weasley, as it was partially his fault her vacation had turned into such an oddity.

Hermione had always found her life to be a bit odd. At age eleven, an age typically marked by nothing wholly extraordinary, Hermione had come into her heritage as a magical being, and trekked off to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In her first school year, she had both befriended a wildly famous individual and saved his life to boot; it was only due to Hermione's quick wit and advanced knowledge of potions that had kept her best friend from an untimely death by poison. Although the wizarding world credited that particular thwarting of Lord Voldemort to her best friend Harry, it was Hermione who had insured his safety in the underbelly of her school.

Hermione had spent much of her twelfth year in a petrified state due to glinting yellowed eyes of an ancient beast. Her thirteenth year had introduced her to the fragile concept of time and its manipulations, the knowledge of which allowed her to save an innocent man from a horrific fate. At age fourteen, Hermione once again kept her best friend Harry alive and well, although she was forced to watch him carry on alone as he disappeared into a labyrinth and returned clutching the body of a fellow student. In her fifth year at school, Hermione had faced her first Death Eater and spoken her first Dark curse: _Rompio_, designed specifically to sever the Achilles' tendons of the victim, much like the snapping of taut rubber band.

At age sixteen, Hermione had watched helplessly immobilized by her friends as her Headmaster plummeted from the walls of his own castle. She had also helped her friend Ginny to construct a student resistance group that fought valiantly as the safety of Hogwarts was compromised. It was in her seventh and final year of schooling Hermione felt true pain under the Cruciatus Curse; in the same year, Hermione eliminated Bellatrix Lestrange in a duel, killing the very woman who had tortured her so mercilessly under the Cruciatus.

After the fall of the Dark and the disappearance of any Death Eaters who had managed to escape, Hermione assumed her life would resume a normal course. For a while, she was pleasantly surprised; she reentered Hogwarts to finish her final year along side her best friends, and she graduated top of her class as a result of her excellent memory and wandless abilities. She had begun dating her longtime friend, Ron Weasley, and she was certain she couldn't be happier. When she and Ron had parted ways near the end of their school career, she had hoped the break between them would prove to be amicable.

For the very shortest of times, it had been. Ron had broken things off with her after deciding they were merely no longer as compatible as they once thought; although Hermione had felt somewhat torn up at the initial thought, she accepted it quite easily as she realized her grieving had been very short lived. She, Harry and Ron had become close once more, companioning around the school grounds for the final two weeks of Hogwarts.

It was after they took leave that the atmosphere changed – although Harry and Hermione kept in touch nearly daily, neither heard from their other best mate for the following three weeks. It was only when they all met at The Burrow for a 'family' dinner that they discovered his secret: Ron had begun dating their former classmate, Lavender Brown, once more. Hermione and Ginny both expected foul play was the cause of Ron's sudden silence; Ginny cornered her brother after the dinner and, under threat of Ginny's Bat Bogey Hex, admitted that Lavender was the reason he had unexpectedly broken things off with Hermione. Neither Ginny nor Hermione were eager to forgive him.

Calling them back for dessert, Molly Weasley announced, unawares to the transpiring moments earlier, she had pulled together enough money for the Weasley family, Harry, and Hermione to take a trip to visit their eldest son, Bill, where he worked in the pyramids of Egypt. The trip was her gift to the trio and Ginny for their graduation, and she was happy as a lark; Hermione didn't dare deny her gift by stating she would rather not accompany them, as she was uncertain of her feelings toward Ron at the present time.

So off she went to Egypt a week later. As was wholly predictable, Ron chose to ignore her for most of the encounters between them rather than face an awkward, potentially volatile, situation. And so Hermione was left with Harry and Ginny, as Ron had disappeared into the woodwork, George was still mourning the passing of his twin, Bill and Fleur had become inseparable, she had never known much of Charlie or Percy, and Molly and Arthur were using the trip to recreate their own honeymoon.

But, of course, Hermione not only felt like a third wheel in the company of Harry and Ginny, she also was desperately wishing not to be around a couple so helplessly head over heels for one another it was a tad nauseating.

Hermione sighed once more, shutting her book and giving it up as a bad job; she had been staring at the same page for nearly twenty minutes, now, and was getting nowhere. She stretched out lazily, the plastic chair sticking slightly to her hot skin. She had chosen to sunbathe and read on her hotel room balcony in hopes Harry wouldn't be able to find her, but he was a persistent man.

Hermione had only shut her eyes for several minutes when something startled her. More precisely something that felt much like parchment struck her lightly in the temple. She opened her eyes and sat up, taking in her surroundings. She was nearly ready to shrug off the whole situation when she happened to glance upward. Grinning above her like a Cheshire cat and wiggling his fingers lazily was Charlie Weasley.

"Charlie Weasley!" Hermione clutched her hand over her heart and shut her eyes tightly. "Good, Merlin, you scared me!"

"What's happened to our brave Gryffindor?" Charlie chucked lazily. He swung his leg over the balcony above and lowered himself to her balcony. He chuckled again as she still had her eyes squeezed shut. "I do hope you don't mind the intrusion."

"No," Hermione breathed. She finally chose to open her eyes, only somewhat surprised to see he had jumped down to her level. "I hadn't the slightest idea you were staying in the room above mine."

"George, Percy and I." Charlie grimaced somewhat. "Percy's been a right pain. I think he's expected all of us to forgive him as easily as mum."

"I understand." And Hermione did. She felt particularly sour toward Percy; at one point during his allegiance with now-ex-Minister Fudge, Percy had insinuated it was Hermione's promiscuity that had kept Ron from aligning himself with Percy. Of all the ridiculous things, she thought.

"And as I've nothing to do for the afternoon," Charlie continued as if there has been no lull in their conversation, "I was wondering if you would care to join me for coffee."

Hermione bit her lower lip lightly. She had only a handful of encounters with the second oldest Weasley brother, and she was hardly the conversationalist. "Oh, I'm not sure. I was rather enjoying the sun…"

Charlie laughed at her. "It's Egypt, Hermione; you won't escape the sun regardless of where you are. I give you my word you'll enjoy yourself. You can even talk about my prat of a younger brother until your heart's content."

Hermione blushed deep red as Charlie extended a hand toward her. "I really don't feel anything bad towards Ron—"

"Come on, Hermione." Charlie didn't drop his hand, and Hermione knew from her experience with the rest of the Weasley clan that they were as stubborn as they came. She finally sighed and accepted his invitation.

"Oh, fine. Just coffee, though," she said with some trepidation.

"Wonderful!" Charlie laughed, pulling her from her chair and ushering her inside. He indicated her still packed suitcase. "Pick out something to wear and we'll be on our way. I've something to show you, as well."

Hermione's cheeks darkened again as she realized she was only wearing her bikini, something only a handful of her closest friends had ever seen her dawn; she maintained a modesty unchallenged by any other young woman her age. She rifled through her suitcase, surprised by her inability to find anything to wear, and scampered off to the bathroom.

Once dressed in her loose jeans and thin tank top, Hermione took a moment to look herself over in the mirror. Her body, she felt, was nothing special. She was slender, with a somewhat darkened complexion and still unruly hair, although it had calmed down considerably in the Egyptian heat. She ran her hand over her forehead, pushing her bangs off her sticky brow and was surprised to find she was somewhat nervous for what was certainly a platonic coffee date between herself and Charlie Weasley. She had never quite known how to approach Charlie, as he was so unlike his brothers, and yet exactly the same. He was a very odd mix of Fred and Geroge, Bill and a bit of Ronald. He carried the tenacity and bubbly attitude of his twin brothers, and he was unquestionably as intelligent as his older sibling, but he was also prone to rash decision much like her ex-boyfriend. It was a mix of personality traits unlike the other Weasleys.

Taking one last look at her plain self in the mirror, Hermione exited the bathroom to find Charlie lying on Ginny's bed and tossing the television remote up into the air, snatching it back again before it landed on the duvet. She cleared her voice lightly. "I'm ready."

Charlie snatched the remote up once more before looking over at her with a wide grin. "Fantastic. I've wanted coffee all day. And I'm absolutely certain you're quite as bored as I am, what with our friends all up to their noses in love."

Hermione blushed again, thankful she was walking in front of Charlie out of her and Ginny's shared room. "You can hardly blame them for wanting to spend time together."

"And I don't, but it does leave me with one uneventful day."

Hermione sighed. "I suppose so. Bill was supposed to take me on a tour of the site he's working on currently, but I think he's forgotten. I heard Fleur asking him for dinner tonight."

"That women has him under her thumb," Charlie laughed fondly. "I'll take you."

"You know about the ruins?" Hermione covered her mouth, as it came out much more confused than she had originally intended. "Not to insinuate you don't know about the pyramids, but how do you know of Bill's work?"

"Vacationed down here last year when Fleur wasn't around, and Bill gave me the grand ole tour."

Hermione felt a twinge of jealousy. After learning of her interest in curses and her high Ancient Ruins N.E.W.T. scores, Bill had offered to take Hermione on a tour of his work site, deep underneath the Pyramid of Teti. The ruins were the first to ever be discovered so far south of where the Greek culture was thought to have survived. Bill's curse breaking team had discovered a new chamber and shut down the pyramid to Muggles for a chance to investigate. He had promised Hermione a tour, but had promptly forgotten at the attentions of his now-wife.

Hermione weighed her options. She was not sure of how much Charlie knew of the ruins, but she was beginning to think this would be her only chance to take a look. Hesitantly, she nodded. "I would like that."

"Excellent." There was a pause, in which Charlie's grin widened. "But I've got something else to show you as well. Soon as we find some coffee."

Hermione laughed as the walked along the streets, past both hole-in-the-wall establishments and fancier dinner houses. "Someone's insistent."

Charlie grinned. "This place just makes great coffee."

They reached their destination several minutes later. The man working the front door greeted Charlie in a friendly tone and shooed him back into the interior of the restaurant after exchanging several words in Arabic.

Hermione watched the entire exchange with interest. Charlie led her into the dimly lit establishment, past men smoking pipes, playing backgammon, and drinking the strongest coffee she had ever smelled. She inhaled deeply, shutting her eyes when they reached what appeared to be a bar; she listened interestedly as Charlie once again spoke to another man in Arabic for a short time.

When she finally opened her eyes, Charlie was watching her with an amused expression. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Don't look at me like that! It smells delightful here."

"I told you it was fantastic." He grinned. Not a moment later a man appeared carrying two cups issuing steam from their tops. Charlie took one for himself and handed the other to his companion. "It's strong. Would you like any milk?"

Hermione shook her head; when in Rome, she figured. "I'll take it as is."

"Come then," Charlie continued, whisking her back out of the restaurant. She felt a moment's sadness, as the place had piqued her interests, but that faded when they again reached the busy Egyptian streets. Watching the natives and other tourists interact never bored her.

She was surprised, however, when Charlie did not lead them back toward their hotel; instead, he turned down a vacant alley and spun on the spot to face her. She nearly ran into his chest at the abrupt stop. "Yes?"

"Told you I had something to show you, didn't I?" Charlie grinned. In the hand that held his coffee he placed a finger over the lid to keep it in place, and he extended his other arm to her. "Alright with Side-Along Aparation?"

Hermione groaned. "You can't just tell me? Side-Along is always so… unpleasant."

Charlie laughed, shaking his head back and forth, his ginger hair following along. "I am not spoiling the surprise. It'll be over in a moment. Just hold onto that coffee. If you spill it on me, I can't promise I won't just let you go."

"Do it, Weasley, and it'll be the last aparation you ever do," Hermione said jokingly, rolling her eyes for added effect. She hesitated a second before stepping into his outstretched arm and reaching to hold on to his shoulder.

Before the awful feeling of being squeezed through a tube overtook her, she had just enough time to notice Charlie smelled distinctly of honey, cinnamon, and freshly mown grass.

But that moment was over in a flash. When Hermione next opened her eyes, all she saw was fire.

She truly did scream. It took her a moment to gather her surroundings. When she did, it took her another several moments to find her words. "Charlie! Where are we?"

"Well, we aren't in Egypt anymore, sweetheart," Charlie laughed. He patted her on the shoulder before letting her go. Hermione found herself missing his warmth, although she hardly had a wit to think about that. "Hermione, meet Norberta."

"We're—we're in Romania?" Hermione gasped, putting the puzzle pieces together. In front of her eyes, and down in a valley several hundred meters below, a dark green dragon was thrashing about, shooting flames from its nostrils every once in a while as trained individuals tried to lower several obviously deceased cows into its living area. She gasped again. "Wait! That's Norbert? Hagrid's Norbert?"

"Norberta," Charlie corrected her. "Turns out she's a girl."

"Oh, my Merlin," Hermione breathed, bringing her hand to her head. In her very first year at Hogwarts, Hermione's friend (and later professor) Rubeus Hagrid had obtained an illegal dragon egg, which he had proceeded to hatch in his _wooden_ home. Hermione, Harry, and Ron asked Charlie to come gather the dragon for his studies in Romania when Norbert, as Hagrid had named it, nearly burned down Hagrid's hut.

Charlie was snickering at her quietly. When she turned around, he had sat himself at the edge of the pit and was enjoying his now-slightly-cooler drink. "I take it this wasn't what you expected?"

"I expected to still be in Egypt," Hermione muttered. She turned to sit down with him, but she was less ready to dangle her legs over the edge of the monster's pit.

Charlie seemed to sense her trepidation. "Norwegian Ridgeback's have absolutely awful eyesight, you know. As long as you aren't up here waving your arms about and shouting like a loon, she'll never notice you. We're also so well hidden in the trees I doubt the wizards can see us either."

"Oh," Hermione answered lamely, tentatively stretching her legs over the side of the monster's home. She took comfort in the birch trees that framed their impromptu picnic. "I can't believe this."

"Mum mentioned you were pursuing an internship with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures." Charlie shrugged. "Thought you might be interested."

Hermione nodded, taking a drink of what certainly was a very strong coffee. The smell invaded her nose, discombobulating her momentarily as she fought to get her thoughts right, but she did recognize how thoughtful Charlie's gesture was, regardless of its insanity. "I do. The school's deemed them too dangerous, but I always wished Hogwarts students could study dragons."

"Woman after my own heart." Charlie chuckled. He noticed Hermione stiffen at his words and quickly changed the subject. "Alright. Tell me what the red-headed prat did."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "It's not necessary…"

"No," Charlie cut her off. "But I would like to know. Ron's always made some weird decisions the rest of us don't understand. Bill and I think it's a middle child thing. I know George and—" Charlie stopped, tripping over Fred's name before skipping it entirely, "is the middle child, but he's never acted like it. With Ginny being the baby, Ron's close enough to middle as it gets. We think a lot of his choices are for attention."

Hermione sighed; she didn't want to, but she absolutely agreed. She was painfully aware of how attention-loving her friend was. "He does enjoy the spot light, but he's a good guy."

Charlie looked over at her with a raised eyebrow. "Ginny doesn't seem to think so."

Hermione sighed again. "Ginny and Ron haven't been getting along for the last several months. She doesn't understand his blasé attitude toward our relationship, and it upset her to see him so carelessly run about with no thought of the feelings of his friends."

Charlie was still for a moment before he quietly offered, "You know, I never did think he was a right match for you."

"Charlie," Hermione warned. Her voice sounded tired even to her own ears.

In the summer of 1997, Bill and Fleur had tied the knot in the Weasley's own backyard. That same day, Death Eaters had attacked, causing Hermione, Ron, and Harry to flea in both panic and confusion from their beloved Burrow; and so began their task to defeat Voldemort. But only three people besides Hermione herself knew she was never intended to be apart of that task: Harry, Ron, and Charlie.

Near the end of the summer, Ron and Harry had pulled Hermione aside to discuss the danger of their mission, and beg of her not to come for her safety. Hermione had outright refused to stay behind. Harry had pleaded with her to stay for both their sakes and Ginny's, so that Ginny would not be left to her own in Hogwarts (as Harry was at his wit's end). Hermione had continued to refuse. Only when Ron had lost his temper and yelled at her, stating he never wished for her to come along because her 'bossy, annoying attitude would get in the way,' had Hermione decided to stay behind. Tearful and angry, Hermione had cursed Ron to the Heaven's, promising him he would not have to put up with her for another moment.

Before he could apologize, Hermione had fitfully run from The Burrow into the neighboring tree line, hiding from her friends and allowing her previously hidden feelings for Ron Weasley to bleed freely.

But Hermione had been unaware that Charlie Weasley, the outdoorsman of the family, had taken to spending much of his time in that exact tree line after Percy had returned home for the wedding, and the two boys were forced to share a room. In fact, Hermione had run directly into Charlie as she stumbled through the trees, her hands rubbing at her burning eyes and nose. The two had spent several hours sitting around the ground, Hermione pouring her heart out and Charlie listening, running a comforting hand along her spine.

After they left the trees, though, Hermione never again mentioned the incident. Ron apologized, and when the Death Eaters attacked suddenly, Harry had taken Hermione out of instinct rather than to leave her behind. Charlie and she had never truly spoken before that incident, and Hermione was far too mortified to try and possibly cultivate a friendship with him, embarrassed by her moment of sheer panic and depression.

So they returned to acquaintances, thanking each other for passing the butter at meal times, but never exchanging Christmas gifts. In fact, Hermione, who had felt so embarrassed, fully avoided the man until the war had ended and she found herself standing next to him at Fred's funeral. She felt absolutely awful and wanted to return the favor he had so graciously done her; so she stood with him throughout the service, acting as his stonewall while he and his family fell apart around her. After the funeral ended, they hesitantly shook hands and agreed to attempt a friendly relationship.

But they had never brought up Hermione's moment of weakness in the trees, those two years previously, and she wasn't sure she was ready to do so yet.

Charlie, however, was a Weasley, and he did not escape their easily insistent curiosity.

"Hermione," her returned similarly; he sounded bitter. "Will you answer me one question?"

Hermione bit her lower lip lightly before nodding just slightly.

"Why Ron?"

Her eyebrows shot into her hairline; that certainly wasn't what she had expected. "Because he was sweet and kind. He and Harry might not always have done their homework, but Ron's not unintelligent. We enjoy much of the same things. I realize our tempers clash, but that's part of the dynamic of our relationship."

"I didn't mean why originally." Charlie somewhat cut her off. He was watching Norberta with faraway eyes. "Why did you stick so firmly to him?"

"Because he's my friend." When Charlie didn't respond, Hermione knew that was not the answer he was looking for. Her hackles rose at his lack of response. "We fight, but we get on splendidly—"

"When he's not stepping on your emotions," Charlie finished for her. He took the final drink of his coffee and turned to look at her with something akin to frustration. "I hardly think that time before the wedding was the first time Ron has upset you. In fact, I remember quite well when you visited after your fourth year, and Ron was distinctly moody every time you received an owl, for goodness sakes. He ignored you for much of that visit, and I do know that upset you. He means well, but he is hardly observant of the feelings of others, and he can't give you what you deserve—"

"And you think you can?" Hermione bit back. She hadn't meant it to come out so harshly, but she was confronting feelings she hadn't ever intended to bring up with her own self, let alone Charlie Weasley.

In fact, Hermione had little choice in getting together with her best friend after the end of the war. As happy as she was about it, the wizarding world expected them to be together, as much as they rooted for Harry and Ginny. They were poster children for not only the light, but for storybook fantasy.

Secretly, Hermione had also chosen Ron for the safety he provided. Not for the physical safety, but because he was such a safer route. In her seven years spent thwarting a psychotic mass murderer, Hermione had hardly had time to socialize. At the war's end, she had feared her lack of socialization throughout her schooling would render her incapable of not only finding a lover, but also even making more friends. When Ron had asked her to be his, she had found her temporary solution in a flash.

In the course of her argument with Charlie, no matter how level their voices had remained, Hermione had felt all of those emotions and fears return to the surface once more. She had no wish to face the fact that without Ron she was wholly unprepared to face her peers outside of Hogwarts. And being unprepared for anything was something that never sat well with Hermione Granger.

Of course, she was neither prepared for Charlie's response to her wholly theoretical question.

"Yes," he answered evenly as he shifted beside her to sit on his haunches, his drink forgotten at his side. His eyes lowered to half-mast and the dynamic between them suddenly shifted. Hermione felt it, her breath catching in her throat. "Would you let me try?"

Hermione could hardly deny she had a deep physical attraction to this wizard. He was unlike his siblings in so many ways. His whole body was tanned from working outside for so many years of his life, and his muscle toned as a result. His hair was not the fire engine red she was accustomed to, but a darker color resembling auburn. He was a perfect mix between his stocky older sibling and Ron, who had always towered over her.

And that attractive wizard was leaning toward her with slow movements, his eyes deliberately locked onto her own. She felt paralyzed, and she was confused when his name passed over her lips as a needy, hesitant whisper.

His face several inches from hers, he brought is roughened fingers up to trace along her cheeks, over her nose, and back down her jaw line. Somewhere in the midst of his administrations, Hermione had forgotten how to breathe.

When Charlie chuckled at her, she felt his warm breath rustle her eyelashes. "Breathe, Hermione. You didn't answer my question."

What was his question? Hermione's brain seemed to have packed up and gone on holiday.

Charlie chuckled again. "Would you let me try, sweetheart? To try and prove to you just how much you deserve?"

"Yes." Hermione had forgotten her answer the moment it left her lips.

Charlie, however, had not. He took full advantage of her permissions, leaning the rest of the way and securing his lips over the point where her shoulder met her neck. She gasped sharply, suddenly remembering how to breathe. As his lips drew a path up her neck, her fingers crawled to his sides, digging in lightly to his thighs, and she tilted her head to allow him closer access. He next nipped at the shell of her ear; drawing another gasp from between her lips as he focused attentions on places of her body Hermione had never known to be sensitive.

He worked his way back down her neck again, his tongue lathering warmly across her heated skin. When he reached her bared shoulder (why, again, had she only worn a tank top?), he bit down gently, drawing her skin just barely into his mouth and working it over with his tongue. Hermione was certain he had done so with the intent to bruise, and his chuckle as he looked over his work a moment later only proved her assumptions.

He brought his head away from her neck, and Hermione's eyes drifted open again when she felt a forehead against her own. The brightest blue eyes she knew burned holes into her own, and she felt her breath catch again. She mutely recognized his hands had come up to hold both of her cheeks, his thumbs gently skimming her skin.

"You've always been the most graceful woman, Hermione," he complimented lowly. Hermione found the deepening of his voice incredibly attractive, her lower abdominal muscles clenching at the new sounds. "And so bloody intelligent. I've never seen someone with so much poise."

Hermione didn't know how to respond. She had never had so much attention focused solely on her. Ron had always been a clumsy lover, and her only other sexual encounter, with Theo Nott, no less, had been brief, hard, and altogether dizzying. Here, a man was not only showing her physical care, but with words as well. His care tugged at her heartstrings.

But Charlie didn't seem to require an answer from her. His eyes danced with amusement again and he chuckled. "I'm going to prove it to you, Hermione. You will love every second of it, too."

Hermione tried to nod, but her neck felt stiff. Suddenly, Charlie was gone from her vision and his head returned to her neck. He kissed again over her vein, the blood beneath pumping hard in time with her heartbeat, as his fingers slipped under her tank. The way his fingers danced so carefully over her belly made Hermione momentarily wonder if he had ever played the piano; he moved with such practiced, tentative ease that she hardly noticed her was dragging the fabric of her tank along with his fingers. His other hand moved to her spine to guide her along to lie on her back, the soft fabric of the blanket beneath them tickling her sides.

Charlie's head was suddenly next to her stomach, and she gasped as he tongued over her abdominals, dipping his tongue momentarily into her belly button, eliciting a small giggle from her. He chuckled deeply in response, moving to her sides where the tickling was sure to be magnified. When she giggled again, he smirked into her skin, moving back to her core and laying butterfly kisses across the top her pants. Soon, he moved upward once more, kissing, tongue, and dancing his fingers to her ribs. It was then he paused to ask her quietly to sit up once more. Somewhat hesitantly, Hermione complied, meeting his lustful stare with unabashed curiosity. His fingers worked carefully to pull her tank over her curls before reaching around her shoulders to fiddle with the clasp of her bra.

It was here Hermione shut her eyes again. She had never been fully comfortable with her naked body, feeling herself to be very un-extraordinary, if her breasts not even somewhat small. Her eyes shot open in surprise when a hiss of pleasure reached her ears. Charlie was staring at her like a starving man having found his feast, his eyelids fully open now, but the look of lust still lingering.

His hand moved again, but she was surprised when it came up to feather across her cheek. He looked at her sincerely. "You're so beautiful, Hermione."

Hermione had never blushed a darker shade of red in her life, and she found herself relieved when Charlie's eyes left hers to roam over her naked torso. He breathed heavily again. "So perfect, sweetheart," he complimented as he lowered her again onto the blanket. Hermione felt her body had turned to silly putty in his hands, not at all under her control.

She gasped loudly when his warm lips made contact with the underside of her breast, an area neither of her other two lovers had ever explored. Her abdominals clenched again and she felt her nipples grow to prominence as a light breeze swept through their wooded haven. Charlie gently kissed the underside of each breast and the valley between before he finally lifted his head and brought it to her strained nipple. His tongue flicked carefully over her right breast, and Hermione cried out quietly, her hands thrusting deep into his shaggy hair. When his lips came down to capture her bud, a low groan escaped her throat; she was surprised to hear Charlie groan in response. He suckled gently against her breast for several moments before clamping down lightly with his teeth, pulling her to the brink of pleasure-pain. He let her nipple slip away and blew cooled air from his mouth across her now wet bud; her entire back arched and another moan crossed her lips. He repeated himself, slowly licking, suckling, biting and blowing, all the while his other hand taking time to roll her left nipple through his fingers, tweaking and pulling in a slow, sensual manner.

When Charlie moved his mouth to her left breast, his mouth encircled the entirety of her nipple; he pulled away tantalizingly slowly until his lips were left touching only her peak. He dived back in quickly, unexpectedly, to roll the bud over and over again against his tongue, and Hermione's groans grew louder amongst the trees.

After torturous minutes in which she felt the heat between her thighs growing, Charlie finally lifted his head to take in her flushed expression and darkened eyes, his own look mirroring her own. He massaged her breasts under his fingers as he stared at her hotly; no words passed between them, but it was unnecessary. Hermione was well aware they had just crossed the boundary between friend and lover, and she was very disinclined to turn away now, when her body would surely revolt against her if she did. When his hand moved to flow across her stomach and rest at the cool metal of her jeans button, while the other hand continued its loving massage over her chest, Hermione's nodded very slightly to his unasked question.

Charlie hesitated only a moment, giving her just enough chance to change her mind if she so wished. When her stare did not cool, he looked at her purposefully before breaking their eye contact and bringing his other hand across her belly. His fingers worked together to unbutton and bring down her zipper; she lifted her hips slightly, wiggling back and forth to help him drag away the material. She kicked off her own sandals before he reached her leg's end.

Her knickers were the only thing Hermione ever felt somewhat empowered her sexuality. Just after the end of the war, a giggling Ginny had dragged her into a lingerie shop for an afternoon of girl-ish fun, she termed. Hermione had left with enough panties to sexily clothe a full army.

She was happy to see someone else appreciated her taste; Charlie paused again to take in her nearly naked self, running his fingers over the soft silk of her panties and pressing gently into the mound of her womanhood. Hermione groaned, her eyes snapping shut of their own accord. She felt his lips back against her breasts, lathering against each one before moving down her stomach. The saliva he left against each nipple caused them to further tighten every time the breeze rustled past, and Hermione couldn't help but wonder if he had devilishly done so on purpose.

Charlie pressed hot kisses down her middle, over the tops of her panties, and at the apex of her thighs. Hermione moaned deeply in response; she realized how high on ecstasy she felt, and he had yet to even touch her skin. She briefly hoped Aphrodite would allow her to hold on long enough to enjoy his administrations, which she had by now accepted were fast coming.

Sure enough, Charlie's fingers hooked into the edge of her panties, pulling them across her hips and down the tops of her thighs. They stuck lightly to the wetted area of her heat, and the cool air when the material finally slipped away made her gasp. Charlie took the time to slip the silken fabric fully down her legs and over her ankles. Hermione knew his paus was to allow him a full look upon her naked self, and her skin heated up in response. She was surprised to hear his voice.

"Hermione, look at me. I want you to watch." When Hermione opened her eyes, she was shocked to find him smirking. He chuckled quietly at her. "Watch for as long as you can, that is."

Hermione had no chance to respond to his quip; at that moment, he lowered his head and kissed against her right hipbone. She almost laughed at the tickling sensation, but the urge to do so was gone when he moved his lips across the valley between her hips, his tongue running circles over her burning skin. At the other hipbone, he opened his eyes to make certain she was indeed watching; keeping her eye contact, her kissed down her thigh and through the dark curls of her muff. He closed his own eyes to inhale deeply, which Hermione thought might have been the sexiest action she had ever been witness to.

"You smell like lemons and sugar, Hermione," he breathed on his exhale. When he opened his eyes again, they were gleaming with mischievousness. "I'm sure you'll taste just as sweet."

Hermione nearly screamed for the second time that afternoon as his tongue unexpectedly made contact with her lower lips. He looked at her, silently reminding her to watch, before moving lower and kissing in a circle around her slit. He pulled each lip between his own, running his tongue over the edges lightly. Hermione alternated between gasping and losing her breath throughout his work. At a full circle, he paused just long enough to look up at her once more before passing his tongue over the entire length of her pussy and coming to end at her clitoris.

Hermione moaned deeply, feeling a fluid trickle against her right leg as her body's sensitivities increased. Her breathing stopped again when Charlie flicked his tongue over her clit, pausing to watch her reactions.

"Watch, sweetheart," her reminded.

Hermione forced her eyes open again to watch him work. His tongue flitted across and around her tiny bundle of nerves, alternating pressures as he went. He lowered himself again to tongue her inner folds, working in a deliberately slow tease. When he brought his lips back up to take her clit between his teeth, biting down ever so gently, Hermione couldn't help her eyes rolling back into her head or the deep groan that rumbled in her chest. Charlie worked her bead over for another half minute, rolling it carefully across his tongue and lips.

He paused, bringing her away from her brink of ecstasy. He chuckled at her small noise of disappointment. "I want you to fully enjoy yourself, sweetheart. Take your time. And let me see your eyes."

His fingers brushed again over her sensitive bead as her eyes opened slowly to him resting on one of his well-muscled arms while the other hand carefully played a musical instrument between her thighs. He was content to watch her reactions as he brushed over, down and around her kitty, trailing her fluids in his path.

"You show the most beautiful, raw emotion, Hermione," he told her quietly. She felt his fingers play lightly at her opening, dipping in very briefly. He took in her expression as he inserted a finger to the first knuckle, swirling around in a circle before exiting her channel. He continued to lightly slip in and out of her warmth. "You smell like Heaven and taste like bliss. I've never met anyone so exquisite as you." His finger pressed deeper, wiggling in fully and caressing her inner spot. "You're confident of yourself; you're beautiful; you're intelligent."

Hermione, having never before been complimented so openly, could only watch and listen with free happiness written over her features. Charlie slowly pumped his finger in and out, bringing a light moan from her lips. He smirked in response, increasing his pace somewhat.

"And when I've shown you what it means to be truly worshipped, like you deserve, I'm going to turn your world inside out and fuck you until you can't stand up."

Hermione's eyes widened at his vulgar comment, her vaginal muscle clenching around his finger as he moved rhythmically.

"But not yet," her reminded her with another chuckle. With that, his head lowered again to her thighs, his tongue taking the position his hand had previously occupied. He sucked against her lower lips and brought his tongue between them, pushing in and out of her channel, eliciting a sensation her body had never before been privy to. She moaned loudly, her fingernails grabbing hold of the collar of his shirt.

While his tongue paid special attention to her opening, his fingers returned to her clit, pushing down gently on the bead. He brushed them back and forth in time with his mouth, occasionally tapping against the sensitive spot in a teasing way. Her legs began to quiver uncontrollably, and her moans reached the treetops, Charlie suddenly switched, taking her clit back between his lips and spearing her with his finger, tickling against the wall where her most sensitive spot lay. The stimulation from both parts of her kitty caused fireworks to erupt behind her eyelids. Every muscle in her core clenched, her back arching off the wooded floor and pressing her lower body further against his face. She cried out his name as she finally fell head-over-heels off her cliff, tumbling into an ecstasy filled bliss.

She finally came down from her high twenty or so seconds later, her legs relaxing beneath her as Charlie withdrew his finger. She opened her eyes to see him staring her down, running his wet finger across his upturned lips. "I told you that you taste delicious."

"Charlie," she said again, this time much less quieter than previously. "I—I don't know—"

"Shh," he told her, bringing the same finger to her lips. It was the most risqué, sexual arousing thing she had ever done, tasting her own salty juices on her lips. He watched her heatedly. "That was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Hermione looked at him longingly, her fingers coming up to run over his neck and cheeks. She might have been somewhat shy normally, but Charlie's confident administrations had awaked a purring beast in her belly. She wanted nothing more than to return his affections as he, too, deserved. "Let me return the favor."

Charlie chuckled. "That's not necessary." He wiggled his eyebrows in a silly manner at her confusion. "There's still much I have planned to do to your to prove just how much you're worth, sweetheart."

He came up to lie next to her, running his fingers softly over her skin. He nuzzled his nose into her neck, and he breathed deeply before kissing along her collarbone. He kissed lightly over the sore point on her neck, which was certain to bruise, and nipped with more pressure under her ear. He brought himself over her naked form, resting on his forearms so as to not crush her with his weight. When he had finished pampering her neck, he nudged her face upward with his nose, his bright blue eyes staring into her hazels.

The first kiss he shared with her was the sweetest, most gentle thing she had ever experienced in her almost twenty years of life. Charlie rested his lips against hers with feather-soft pressure, and no movement passed between them. After a brief enjoyment of their shared bliss, she tilted her chin and silently asked for more. He complied, smoothing her lower lip with his moist tongue and drawing a small moan from her. She wound her hands into his auburn hair and his fingers continued their dance across her cheeks and shoulder. When they finally came up for air, Hermione decided she would never find a man so capable of exciting her every sense with the simplest of kisses.

She leaned forward for more, but he chuckled, bring his finger to rest on her lips. She looked at him confused; she hoped she had done nothing wrong.

"You're wonderful," he assured her unmentioned doubts. "But I believe I promised you a tour of the pyramids."

"Screw the pyramids," Hermione muttered, tugging lightly on his hair. She was as patient as a six year old, and Charlie laughed thusly.

"What if I promise you something else as well?" She stilled, willing to hear him out. "After our tour of the pyramids, I'll take you to the Library at Alexandria."

Hermione's eyes widened like a child on holiday, her fingers slipping from his hair and coming to rest on his toned shoulders. Here was a man she had only ever had several full conversations with, and he seemed more attuned to her desires and wishes than any other she counted as a friend. She nodded excitedly. "Oh, would you? I've always wanted to see the site."

Charlie chuckled quietly as he moved off of her. With tender care he helped gather her clothing and redress her as well. When they finished, he flicked his wand and their picnic blanket disappeared, leaving imprinted grass in its wake.

Charlie turned to her and offered his arm, similarly as he had done in the Egyptian alley not long ago. This time, however, there was very little hesitation as she stepped forward, intertwining her arms around his waist instead. He wrapped his arms around her as well, pulling her much closer than was necessary for Aparation. His fingers ran patterns down her spine, and in their moment of pause, Hermione just had time to take in the smell of honey, cinnamon, and a freshly mown lawn.

**A/N: **I've toyed around with the idea of extending this one shot to a short series, in which each chapter would focus on a different Weasley pairing during their vacation to Egypt (ie. Ginny-Harry, Molly-Arthur, etc.). If you would enjoy hearing more along that line, leave a review so I can decide what direction to take! I hope you enjoyed yourself!


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